Playing Favorites
by JolieFille
Summary: When you really trust someone, you have to be okay with not understanding some things. Bellatrix Lestrange knew this, of course. And she usually did trust him without understanding his logic...


Playing Favorites

----------------------------------------

When you really trust someone, you have to be okay with not understanding some things. Bellatrix Lestrange knew this, of course. And she usually did trust him without understanding his logic. Hell, she wasn't even entirely sure why the Dark Lord was so fixated on destroying Harry Potter. Not that she minded. The filthy little brat was too cherished and loved by the wizarding world for his own good. The Boy Who Lived…The Chosen One…a supposed match for the Dark Lord himself? Oh, how the _Daily Prophet_ was feeding his ego with lies. That boy was living in a fantasy world if he believed them, and deserved to be finished off on principle of sheer stupidity.

But the Dark Lord wasn't after him on a count of stupidity – his tolerating the likes of Peter Pettigrew and half a dozen other of her fellow death eaters was confirmation of this – he wanted the boy dead for another reason. Possibly relating to the media's allegations of Potter being the chosen the one – the one who was destined to take down the Dark Lord – or possibly relating to whatever was contained in that confounded prophecy. Yes, that confounded, wretched prophecy…

You see, the prophecy was a sore point with Bellatrix. And the Dark Lord for that matter. He had been so proud of his well-thought out plan to remove the prophecy from the Department of Mysteries. Bella herself recalled marveling at the genius of his ploy, to lure the boy there by making him believe his godfather was trapped in the department. It _was_ a brilliant plan, but it had gone awry because he did not go alone and was later joined by members of the Order of the Phoenix. But because _she_ had been assigned the task of taking the prophecy upon Harry Potter's arrival, the debacle at the Department of Mysteries had come to be her fault.

And that was why the mentioning of the prophecy and the incidents surrounding it always stung Bella. It had caused a gash in her relationship with the Dark Lord that now seemed beyond reconciliation. She had always boasted herself to be the Dark Lord's favorite servant. People knew her as his most loyal devotee, what with the fervor and zeal with which she assisted Lord Voldemort's cause. And she remained his most devoted servant, no matter where their relationship stood presently; no matter if that sniveling Peter Pettigrew or that cowardly Severus Snape were in the Dark Lord's good graces, having supposedly been more useful to him than she had been…Bellatrix knew that was still the most devoted, and she was determined to make her master see that.

Bellatrix remembered well the days when Lord Voldemort would single her out as one of his most trusted death eaters in their inner circle. Those days were long gone, but still shone brightly in Bella's mind, reminding her of the respect she used to have—from her fellow death eaters, but even from the Dark Lord…to a measure. The Dark Lord never really respected anyone, per say; he did however value those who followed him and his ways, and Bellatrix Lestrange had definitely been valuable to him. He had used her, wanted her, even needed her on some occasions. She had risen above the ranks of her own husband, Rodolphus, who had actually been the one to first bring her into Lord Voldemort's circle. Naturally Rudolphus had grown jealous at her improved ranks, but was able to look proud enough of her in front of others.

Oh, Rodolphus. Bella wasn't terribly fond of him. Yes, they had been married for quite some time, and she performed her conjugal duties satisfactorily (though more for her own satisfaction than for his), but she didn't really love him. Her love for him had died out long ago, when she met Lord Voldemort.

A torrid love affair with the Dark Lord…the mere idea of such business would have been quite sickening. Fortunately, Bella never fell in love with the Dark Lord. Well, not in the lustful manner than normal people have tended towards other normal people anyway. However, it was important to note that neither Bella nor Lord Voldemort were ever really normal. Therefore it was only natural that their love—their relationship—not be normal either.

Bellatrix loved Lord Voldemort with a passion greater than that between two star-crossed lovers; she loved him with a greater sense of loyalty and devotion than a parent could have for his or her child; her love was one that was cosseted by fear of him. This was the difference between her love and the love anyone else might have held for a man. She did fear him like everyone else, and while she loved him in this manner, she never hoped for reciprocation; she never expected reciprocation.

But he did used to call her Bella.

That had been sufficient for her; to have Lord Voldemort call her Bella. It was definitely a far cry from being requited, but it had been something. It had actually meant the world to her, but poor Bellatrix did not realize that until the Dark Lord reverted to calling her Bellatrix again. After the night at the Department of Mysteries, Bellatrix had come to realize just how much she preferred to be called Bella.

Shortly after she had joined his circle of death eaters, Lord Voldemort had caught onto her nickname, which was used by not only her husband, but by Lucius Malfoy—husband to her dear Cissy. The Dark Lord then began to refer to her as Bella as well, and she admittedly was pleased. It was a name few people used with her—mostly family and close friends—so to have had Lord Voldemort himself feel entitled to address her by this name was high praise indeed for her. But like all good things in this world, the happy days of being the Bella in Lord Voldemort's eye had to come to an end. The Dark Lord had been thwarted again by Harry Potter, this time on her watch. He was angry with her. And if one knew Lord Voldemort, it would have been assumed that his anger had not simmered at all in the past few months. The Dark Lord, after all, did not believe as easily in "forgive and forget" as his opponents did. He seldom forgave, and never forgot. And his calling her Bellatrix instead of Bella now was a constant reminder of his annoyance with her.

When you really trust someone, you have to be okay with not understanding some things. Bella still trusted Lord Voldemort, and she was honestly trying to be indifferent to the fact that she was not his favorite person at the moment. She couldn't entirely understand or appreciate why—perhaps it was because he had held her to much higher expectations than everyone else, due to her level of devoutness, and was thus disappointed when his plans last May had failed—but she couldn't have known for sure. It was a bit annoying, but she tried not to get too frustrated with the situation. Maybe she wouldn't ever completely understand him, which one might have argued was completely illustrious of the measure to which she loved Lord Voldemort—she trusted him anyway. She had to. It was just part and parcel of being the Dark Lord's favorite.


End file.
